Amicus
by 8brains
Summary: AU That moment that made you who you are. What if it never happened? A look at the team if they never became heroes.
1. Superboy

_He failed us…_

_We knew he would…_

_Always knew…_

_It's why you're here…_

_He's turned from the light…_

_It's you now…_

_Find him…_

_Show him that you're the hero he could never be…_

The flash slipped out of his fingers again but he was tired and before he could get too far Superboy was able to get a good blow to his left temple.

Where his costume was ripped he could see bruises and cuts from their fight. It had been long and brutal but in the end Superboy was able to wear him down. He wouldn't be getting up for a while.

_But he will get up…_

_And he'll come back…_

_With him still here…_

_You will never defeat Superman…_

_As long as he is here…_

_He must be stopped…_

In one swift motion he pulled the Flash from the ground by the throat and squeezed. The sound of his wind pipe cracking was deafening and for a moment he hesitated, loosened his fingers half a centimeter.

_Superboy…_

_Earth's Savior…_

He retightened his hold.

Tighter.

Tighter.

The Flash never woke up.


	2. M'gann M'orzz

She was a freedom fighter, and this was the only way.

It was easier in the field. The way they looked at her, like she was some bug that needed to be squashed, like she deserved a fate worse then death for daring to strive for a better life. It made it easier to rip them apart or blow them up. To go into their minds and break them, reduce them to children.

She could feel their hatred; they wore it like a shield. Sometimes it was so overwhelming that it was hard to breath. They had never met her, but they hated her. She used that to fuel her rage.

But she was getting so tired. Tired of the hate, tired of the fighting. Sometimes it was all she could do to get up in the morning. She just wanted it all to stop.

Her captain had wanted to send her to a medical bay far away from the fighting for a while. It was standard procedure with most troops. Two months deployed one month mental recovery.

But she was their best weapon. She could do things most of them could only dream of. So she kept getting up. Let the screams and the hate wash over her, because they needed her.

All she wanted was to be able to walk down a busy street and look a green in the eye without the fear of being attacked.

She could see them now, shoulder to shoulder. They were going to attempt to swarm her. She was reminded of a beehive she had seen on an Earth documentary.

She raised her hands as they began to scream, and as the blood splashed across her face and pooled at her feet the agony of her enemies engulfed her. Behind her, her fellow whites cheered.

All in the name of freedom.


	3. Wally West

"Mr. West?" He couldn't tell you her name; she was temp filling in for his usual keeper Mrs. Wilkson. He smiled for her.

"I told you this morning to call me Wally."

She played with the hem of her shirt and Wally saw pity in her eyes. He hated her for that. Mrs. Wilkson was always cold and honest. Not the greatest conversationalist, but she never looked at him like he was some terrible tragedy.

"Your mother called…"

He felt his stomach drop. He had expected this, of course he had. His father had been sick for years and getting worse every day. Of course he had expected it, but things were just starting to get good again.

2 inches.

2 inches and he would've absorbed all the radiation that hit his father in the next room. Radiation that would have been harmless if it hadn't combined with the chemicals in their wall.

2 inches and he would be able to avenge Uncle Barry.

No. He wasn't going to think about that now. Not with everything else that was going on.

"My father's dead isn't he?" he knew the answer, but she was clearly taking this a lot harder then he was and he didn't want to know how she would react if he made her say it.

She could only shake her head in acknowledgement. If it didn't take so long to wheel over to her he probably would've patted her on the back or something. Seriously, you think it was her father that had kicked the bucket.

"The, uh, the funeral's on Thursday. Your mother said you didn't have to go."

She blamed him too, he realized.

"Thanks, uh you can go."

"I'm sorry Wally."

"Just go please."

She was crying, but he wasn't. Most people would find that odd but thirty second ago he had resigned himself to bury his grief in his research. Cancer did not cure itself. Not yet anyway. He was done it might.

He could set up experiments, work through problems, and explain himself at four times the rate of anyone else. But everything still seemed to be in slow motion and too often he was left alone with his thoughts.

He moved to the university to escape having to think about everything but the guilt followed him everywhere.

If he had been 2 inches to the right his father would still be alive.

If he had been 2 inches to the right he would've been able to save Uncle Barry.

If he had been 2 inches to the right he wouldn't have hit the dresser and the angle he had.

He wouldn't be stuck in a wheel chair.

They said he had the greatest scientific mind since Einstein. He still couldn't believe how he could be monumentally stupid.

He closed his eyes tight, willing away tears and went back to looking at the cells.


	4. Kaldur'ahm

**I am so sorry! I have no excuse for being so late with this except that I am a lazy and terrible person and I pray your forgiveness. **

"What did you say Captain?"

"I said I cannot lead this attack." Kaldur was steely eyed, careful not to let his fear show; it would be used against him.

"This is an order from the king himself. Are you aware of the consequences of disobeying an order like this?"

He did, of course he did. How many brothers at arms had he watched die screaming? Maintaining until the last moment that any semblance of sanity the king had, had left him when his child died? They had been unprepared however, taken unawares in the dead of night. Kaldur had watched, and learned from their mistakes.

"Yes sir."

His Lieutenant sighed, he was hard and old. Forty years of military service had taken all question of authority from him. He remembered how he winced at Hugor's screams and hoped for a head start.

"Please don't make me do this Captain. Not again. Let's talk about this. Why won't you carry out the order?"

"I will not take innocent lives lieutenant"

"Martian lives, a pest. Kaldur they're overrunning the island. They're murders and thieves. Cowards."

"They are men, and women, and children, searching for a better life."

"Kaldur…"

"I am sorry Lieutenant."

"As am I."

He took the handcuffs from his desk and stood. Kaldur had never been gladder that his Lieutenant was a man of some honor. If he could take him out noiselessly then he would be able to swim out of camp undisturbed. He could have twenty minutes before anyone noticed something was amiss.

He would have preferred to ready his water bearers. It was dishonorable to strike an unsuspecting foe, but then how many dishonorable things had he done thus far?

He was careful to keep his body language tense but submissive. At the last moment he would strike. The Lieutenant would not be expecting it. He was old and his reflexives were not as they once were.

Behind him Kaldur felt the Lieutenant take his wrist and Kaldur twisted around and struck the man in the back of the neck.

They would kill the Lieutenant for sure now, slowly, first for losing a prisoner and second for being incapacitated.

Kaldur grabbed the man under the chin, wrapping his other arm around the top of his head.

_This is a mercy, _he thought as he twisted.

He was right in the end; he was ten minutes out of camp when he heard the sirens.


End file.
